Folk music is honesty. It is the hand of good people from the past, reaching out to good people of the present, as they extend theirs out to the future. That is what all of you are doing. It's a relay, without a race, the baton being placed firmly in the hands of the next generation.

It is the music of human emotion. The music of 'us' as a species, the 'ingredients' of mankind. If we were invaded from outer space, it would be our folk music that would explain who we are, to those who wanted to discover.



Right now I'm listening to Bruce Murdoch on the 'Singer Songwriter Project' CD, along with Pat Sky, David Blue/Cohen and Richard Farina.

"...Leaving that part of my life in 12 days..."

In 12 days time, 'the world' gets you and your music back, and will be all the richer for it. Let's hope you now get time to write your autobiography sometime soon. Put me down for a copy, please, along with your new CD.

Welcome back, Bruce, and welcome home.

We've missed you.




Rompin' Rovin' Days - by Bruce Murdoch

Hey I've been a rambler all my rompin' rovin' days
A railway boy with nothin' for to do
My people waved farewell somewhere's down the road
For hobos, friend, are only passin' through

I've seen every city from San Marcos in the south
To the concrete fenced in walls of New York town
Everywhere I go my name nobody wants to know
And their talking seems to stop when I'm around

And all in my life I've been quickly cast aside
Though my handshake never meant less than your own
If there's any which way for to fully understand
Then tell me 'cos I'd surely like to know

For every mile I road a freight train, I walked a city block
Gazing through the windows at the goods I couldn't buy
But the thing that hurts me most is when I'm wanderin' alone
And no-one cares enough to ask me why

I've been a rambler all my rompin' rovin' days
A railway boy with nothin' for to do
My people waved farewell somewhere's down the road
For hobos, friend, are only passin' through